


cherennui

by puddlebuckets (ciphermitarai)



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters: Black & White | Pokemon Black and White Versions, Pocket Monsters: Black 2 & White 2 | Pokemon Black 2 & White 2 Versions
Genre: Cheren being dramatic but I mean it’s kind of understandable considering, Cuddling, FUCK N, M/M, N SUCKS, Nightmares, Pining, he’s been bottling this shit up for two years, kuroshipping is dead and I am hoisting its corpse up with a stick, oh yeah
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-18 13:54:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29490918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ciphermitarai/pseuds/puddlebuckets
Summary: “Cherry!”Only one person called him that.
Relationships: Cheren/Touya | Hilbert
Comments: 4
Kudos: 10





	1. work up

**Author's Note:**

> Based.  
> (based on what?)  
> Based on my own nightmares.
> 
> AO3 is bein' weird, sorry for any adjustments to this fic in advance.

If Cheren could have it his way, he wouldn’t remember anything before this.

The small ramp past which short shelter loomed was icy—he almost prayed the boat would buck forward so he could slide that way, rather than back, down, and into the railing. Perhaps it was a blessing that it was there, even as the metal smashed against his brain for the umpteenth time, as surely that was a better fate than what lay beyond it. Cheren fancied himself a knower of everything, but even he could never understand what lied beyond the white-capped waves.

He had half a rational mind left, one that asked where he was, what he was doing, who put him there. But another part of him swore it was a blessing, though his life was fine and happy, that he was sitting there among the imperceptible bodies with empty faces—

_ Fuck. _

And Cheren almost regretted thinking the word.

Something began to fall, like ash, like—snow. And as it came down, the bile began to rise up. Everywhere he looked there were more of them. No eyes. No mouths. No teeth. Empty grey mannequins that threatened to crush him the more he looked and suddenly  _ something  _ answered his wish and his still-moving body slid through the piles and piles of empty husks and then everything wasn’t.

* * *

_ “Cherry!” _

Only one person called him that.

“Cherry, get up!”

Oh, wonderful. He could finally wake up from whatever nightmare this is.

His head still hurt, and hitting it right into the face of Hilbert T. Black didn’t quite help matters. 

“...  _ Arceus _ , what are you doing here?” His face went a bit red at the nearness of their faces, which he couldn’t dismiss as quickly as he wished. Still, he drew his eyes away from the rather strange position they had ended up in, instead staring at the hard ground and the rims of the walls of the Pokecenter they’d stayed in overnight.

_ Of course.  _

He reckoned he must’ve looked like a Caterpie, bundled up and bug-eyed on the floor. He tried to sit up, but the sleeping bag didn’t allow it, so he rolled back to give Hilbert some space, at least. Cheren didn’t have great morning breath, and besides… 

Well, whatever. That could wait. 

The cold didn’t leave his limbs, though, as if his body was still on the boat, and it nagged at him in a different sort of way that he hated to think about. 

“You were rollin’ around, I get worried, y’know…” the boy next to him snickered, his voice barely above a whisper and Cheren didn’t have the time to kick himself before he continued. 

“If you have a nightmare, Cherry, I won’t laugh at ya, alright? Better to tell me than to wake me up by bumping into me.”

To that, Cheren had nothing to say, and they laid there in silence. Cheren could hardly bring himself to make out the shape of Hilbert’s face, embarrassed as he was, and curled up in on himself like a child.

“Hey, c’mon, you haven’t fallen asleep again, have ya? Sheesh…”

All Hilbert got in response was an incoherent mumble, but that seemed to be enough for him, as Cheren caught a grin on his face just before his eyes fell to exhaustion. He might’ve felt an arm around him, maybe just his hopeful imagination, maybe just his staticky mind, but—

“Well, whatever. I’ll protect you from the nightmares, then.”

And Cheren felt a little smile slip onto his face as he faded back out of consciousness. 

* * *

He’d pack up his things, and his day at the Trainer’s school would be over. At least, that’s how things should’ve been. But Hilbert should’ve been there to greet him, too, so what did it matter?

Two years. 

And Cheren couldn’t help but think that it must’ve all been a lie. 

There was a challenger today. There were always challengers, and he pretended not to be jealous of them. Running all of this, well, it took its toll, and humans really weren’t supposed to teach at seventeen—still, he pushed himself and still, he was called “the one who seeks the right path” how could he even be  _ called  _ that it’s not like he knew where he was going or what his heart wanted or if it even mattered, and his head crashed on the desk and that was the end of that.

He awoke in the ship’s cabin, and all he could do was bark out a bitter laugh at fate’s strange nightmares. Maybe, if he hurt himself enough, he’d wake up, and just like that day he took far too much for granted Hilbert would be there and he’d cry, oh, he’d cry  _ so hard _ to be needed, and he wouldn’t be alone anymore, Bianca—well, Bianca was the only fragment left but he hadn’t even reached out to  _ her _ for fear of worsening the ache for everything he’d already lost.

Driven by impulse he crawled up the ladder, and as the ice whipped his face again he yelled something. Something he couldn’t hear, something stolen by the wind, something he’d never understand. A name, or a promise, or everything that’s built up, loneliness, all of it, mourning someone who never died, rather—that love, that care. How it stung to be abandoned for a hopeless dream.

And the boat collapsed. 


	2. sunny day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> things get better, sometimes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I get sad easily so I wrote an ending to comfort myself lol

Two years, it turned out, had been a worthwhile wait.

Cheren was sure of that, at least, as the sunlight through the blinds painted his new room gold, and the face of the boy he’d missed for too long radiant and bright. Not that it ever wasn’t, of course, but he’d missed that smile, he really did—after all those years, and a bit of island-hopping on top of that, too, somehow this mysterious champion and Hero of Truth of his had decided that he wasn’t too good for Aspertia after all.

Grievances were natural; they couldn’t be helped. But in this moment, the dozing, peaceful face resting on his chest was enough to put that out of his mind. The covers were soft, and time slowed just enough, so the world was all pancakes and buttercups and sweet lemonade and, lucky him, the boy he adored. Even the dust in the air shone when it passed through the light. Finally, he was truly content to just be.

Nothing gold can stay, though. Cheren knew that better than anyone, and soon enough the boy began to move. The groggy grumble Hilbert let out was so unlike his pretty face it almost made him laugh, and he would be lying if he said he hadn’t snickered a bit despite his best attempts.

“Morning, Sleeping Beauty,” Cheren said, ruffling Hilbert’s hair, hoping he’d stay long enough so he could hold onto this moment, hold onto that warmth, hold onto that love. “Are you gonna disappear for another hundred years? S’ already at least eight by the looks of it.”

“Oh, you _ass_ ,” Hilbert laughed through the morning haze, pulling him close with that goofy grin of his. “Not everyone runs on teacher timing, _Cherry_.”

Oh, how he missed that nickname.

All Cheren responded with was a kiss on the forehead, almost solemn in its sweetness, though Hilbert’s face scrunched up in an even brighter smile that, when he opened his eyes again, threatened to blind. 

“Oh, you…” he continued, holding him softly, yet tight—after all those years, he couldn’t afford to lose this. And after a moment, Hilbert’s embrace strengthened in return. He couldn’t help but smile to himself, at that, from the wordless exchange of something he might even call love.

“I won’t leave ya again, Cherry. Promise.”

And with a smile, Cheren stopped remembering his dreams.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this after watching Temptation Stairway and then going to sleep, so that should probably explain why this makes no sense.


End file.
